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“Absolutely not.”
Ryan frowns. “What? Why?”
“There’s no chance I’m letting you borrow the Range. You’d crash it within minutes.”
“Oh please. I’m a great driver.”
Kai scoffs, and she turns to him with a glare, but he’s not deterred. “Remember your Mazda? You legit drove straight into a ditch, and this one”—he hikes his thumb in my direction—“had to come save you. And that wasn’t the first time, I believe?”
“Nope. She had the Ford, then the SEAT before that…”
Ryan growls, and it might just be the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. “Alright, I get it—cars and I aren’t the best of friends. But I promise I’ll drive at like two miles an hour, and I won’t even play the radio, so I don’t get distracted. And you know I’ve always wanted to drive the Range Rover. How can you possibly say no?”
“Easy,” I deadpan. “No.”
“Please.” She flicks her gaze to mine, giving me her best puppy-dog impression, and fuck me, I’m about to cave.
My best friend knows it too. “Don’t do it, mate. Stay strong.”
“Ignore him,” Ryan demands, keeping her eyes on mine. “What do you say? Say yes. We’re friends, remember?”
I shake my head, huffing a laugh. “Fucking hell. Fine. But I’m coming with you, and if I tell you to stop, you stop, and I take over. Got it?”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Brooks, but I’ll take it.” She throws her arms around my neck, her breath heady on my throat, and I wrap my arms around her tighter, relishing in her warmth as she whispers, “Thank you.”
I drop a kiss on her crown, breathing her in. “Anything for you, Ry.”
It’s official. I have a death wish.
If I could go back in time and tell my younger self anything, it would be to not trust a word from Ryan Parker’s mouth. Also, don’t let her sweet-talk me into shit.
My fingers curl around the oh-shit handle, and my free hand shoots out to steady the steering wheel. Despite her promises, I’ve told her to stop the car no less than five times, and with each one, she’s sent me a bright grin and pretended not to hear the command.
“Whoever passed you on your driving test needs to be sacked,” I hiss, sucking in a deep breath as she careens around the corner. “Seriously, Ry. This isn’t safe. Can you at least slow down?”
“I’m going fifty in a seventy. Stop being a baby.”
“If you knew how to drive, your speed wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I clearly know how to drive, Chase. You’re being dramatic—” She kerbs it, the car jolting heavily, and she straightens back out, looking sheepish. “That was intentional.”
“Of course it was. Why wouldn’t you intentionally take a trip on the kerb?”
“Someone’s grumpy today.”
“Someone doesn’t want to die today,” I deadpan, grabbing the wheel again when she takes a harsh corner. “It’s a shame the same can’t be said for you.”
“If I let you drive home, will you stop whingeing?”
“Let?There’s no let about it. Iamdriving home, and you will sit pretty in the passenger seat without a complaint.”
“You think I’m pretty?” she teases, flicking her eyes at me.
“Eyes on the road, you bloody maniac.”
She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my already semihard dick.
This experience has been wholly confusing to me. On the one hand, I’ve hated every second of it. Ryan truly is not the greatest driver in the world, and I’m starting to wonder if I can make her car’s not-starting problem a permanent thing, considering I value her life and the lives of others on the road far more than she does, it seems.
